— Dogwashn. A project of minimal priority, undertaken as an escape from more serious work. (Jargon File)
— Me? I'm just a lawnmower. You can tell by the way I walk. (Peter Gabriel)

16 December, 2006

Henri Paul

Though I would not have wished such an end upon them, I have no sympathy for Dodi al Fayed, who seems to be a spoilt chip off his father's tedious block, and little sympathy for the scheming Diana, despite her appalling and cynical treatment by the Royals as a brood mare to ensure the succession, an arrangement which I am sure she entered into with eyes wide open. But while the lives of these spoilt aristobrats have been pawed over by the meejah ad nauseam, their driver Henri Paul has been allowed to assume the role of handy villain by default.

This piece by the ever-reliable Janice Turner deserves to be widely read, as I'm sure the Stevens report on which it is based will inevitably not be. Perhaps Monsieur Paul was neither a victim of MI6 machinations nor quite the evil drunken thug we were alternatively led to believe  cruelly stealing away from us the sainted life of our dear Princess of Hearts  after all.

Incidentally, now that Lord Stevens has hopefully laid the Diana business to rest for everybody but the Phoney Pharaoh and the rest of the lunatic fringe, perhaps he can be persuaded to stand as Tory candidate for the London mayoralty. Next time, if the Tories can put up somebody credible, and I don't mean a fucking Cameroon, I'm going to break the habit of a lifetime and vote for them. Desperate measures are needed to get rid of the Newtfucker and his posse of PC thugs.

About Me

Edwin Greenwood is the nom de souris of a Mancunian early baby-boomer, now living in London, who like so many of his cohort has made the transition from cuddly inclusive soft-left liberal into a grumpy old git who is quite prepared to call a spade a black bastard.
(The previous sentence may cause consternation to the Righteous. If this is you, read this and/or this before exploding with indignation.)